At my side
by Fuzzy footie pajamas
Summary: When Arthur wakes up with his head pounding and his knees shaking, he wants his papa to stay by his side. He wants papa to make him feel better and make the pain go away. But he finds himself with doubts. Why would he stay with him? It's up to Francis to kiss these doubts away, before they are left to consume him. Sick!Britain, Abtalia, ABDL/age regression. (Gift)


**A gift for my friend BubblesGoesPop.I really hope this one came out right. I did my very best to make him very little and very dependent, just as she likes him. I really hope that it looks right! (How many times did I listen to The Last of the Starmakers as I wrote this? Too many. I'm not crying, you're crying.) This was supposed to be for Christmas, but I'm sorry it came out so late. I hope you still like it anyhow.**

The bed was cold and empty. That was the first thing Arthur realized when he woke up that morning. He reached out and felt the spot next to him. But no one lie next to him. The spot was a bit warm however, indicating that Francis had only just gotten out of bed. He frowned softly. Dear, he wish he wouldn't just leave him like that. It was a bit lonely to wake up to an empty bed. He retracted his hand and rolled onto his back. And that's when the second realization of the morning hit him.

His head was pounding.

Arthur reached up and placed his hands over his eyes to block the sunlight that came in through the window, which was only aggravating his headache. Ooh, why was he hurting so much? He squeezed his eyes shut and placed a bit of pressure in his eyelids with the heels of his hands. But it did very little. He could feel a bit of warmth beneath his fingers. Was he sick? Oh god please don't tell him he was sick. Arthur absolutely hated being sick. But unfortunately, it seemed to happen more often then he wished it would. All he wanted right now was to held and made better. The pain and frustration together was making him slip. He could feel himself slipping down into his little space. He was much more used to going into his little space bit by bit, rather then all of a sudden. So it was a little jarring.

"Francis!" Arthur called out. But he didn't get an answer. "Francis!" He tried again. Once again, he didn't get an answer. He frowned softly, and pushed himself into a seated position. "P-papa?" He called, a bit softer now. Where was Francis? Did he leave the house? Did he just leave him here? Where did he go? Arthur pushed his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His knees felt like jelly, and he thought he would collapse. He felt awful. Oh gosh, how was he going to look for Francis, when he wasn't even sure if he would be able to walk? He felt a little lump form in his throat. Why would he just leave like this, especially during a time Arthur needed him most? Arthur sighed and tried to swallow past it. He had always been worried about such a thing. Waking up to the empty bed, and Francis being gone. But this time, he would not return. he would find someone out there who he loved more then Arthur. Maybe a lover, or another baby boy. He knew it was simply the fever making him think such irrational thoughts. But it still hurt him just the same.

'Come on,' he told himself softly as he sighed. 'Be a big boy. You need to find him. You can't just let yourself lie down. Your stronger then this.' He took in a short breath, and walked across the room. He entered the hall and looked back and forth. He wasn't there. He looked in the kitchen. Not there. He looked in the dining room. He wasn't there. The sitting room. No Francis. By he time he returned to the hall, he had his hand pressed against the wall, and his legs were shaky. Where was he? Why was he not here? He... Wait a moment.

He kept walking after a bit, and paused outside of the bathroom. Oh. He could hear the shower running on the other side of the door. For Gods sake. He sighed shakily and pressed his back against the wall. He would go back to bed and wait for him to come out. But, he didn't know if he would be able to. Quietly, he slid down the wall and sat down on the ground. Never mind. He would just wait here for now. Wait for Francis to come out of the shower and help him. Ooh, he felt a bit dizzy. Arthur leaned his head on the wall, sighing softly. He felt tired. Francis wouldn't be out for a bit. He may as well just...close his eyes. Just for a second.

The next moment was a bit of a blur. The sound of the shower running helped to lull him into a bit of a fitful sleep. It wasn't comfortable, and his neck ached. But he didn't feel like he would be able to stand. So this was better then trying anyways. He wasn't too bothered when the shower stopped. And he wasn't bothered when he suddenly felt damp hands on his cheek. He only roused when he felt the ground disappear beneath him, and he felt himself move. But he still didn't bother to speak. Once he was lying down again, that was when he opened his eyes.

He was lying on his back in his bed, and a pair of concerned violet eyes were looking down at him. "Papa..." Arthur croaked out, reaching out. Francis took Arthur's hand and held it tight in his own.

" _Lapin_ , why did you not stay in bed if you felt sick?" Francis asked him, squeezing his hand gently. Arthur frowned. Why was Francis asking him this? He felt crummy, the last thing he wanted or needed was to be scolded or told what he should have done. Arthur scowled at him, tiny tears prickling in his eyes.

"I was looking for you stupid," Arthur told him. "You weren't in bed, I thought you had left." Arthur was frowning angrily, but it was hard to look tough or angry, when his green eyes were sparkling with tears. "You're not supposed to leave like that papa. Papas are supposed to stay!" He said. Francis's eyebrows furrowed a bit. Seems that Arthur had slipped into his little space. And he was not happy at all was he? "You're mean!"

"I know, I was very mean wasn't I? Papa is very sorry," Francis cooed, sitting down at his side and stroking his hair. "Please do not cry, I am very sorry." He leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then kissed at his tears to help them to dry. "I know you don't feel good. I should not have left you like that. What can papa do to get you to forgive me?" He asked softly. Arthur sniffled and thought about his question for a moment.

"Make it better," he said softly. "I feel gross."

"I know you do. Well, papa will try his very best to make it all better little one," Francis promised. He felt his forehead for a moment and frowned at the heat that radiated from his skin. "Would you like to have a bath? Maybe that will help the fever go down a little," he suggested.

"No," Arthur responded, shaking his head. Francis scratched his chin.

"Alright, then would you like something to eat?"

"No."

"Oh. Then what would you like little one?" Francis asked. Arthur didn't answer, only chewing on his nail. Poor thing was a bit cranky and a little fussy. so it would be hard to make him happy. What could he do? Hmmm. Oh! "Well then, do you want to cuddle?" Francis asked. "We can go and lie on the couch, or on the bed, and we can just have a little cuddle time, just you and me. How does that sound?" He offered. Arthur looked up and into his eyes for a moment.

"Please?" he asked softly.

"Of course darling," Francis assured him, smiling kindly. He swaddled Arthur as best he could in the blanket, and carried him out of the bedroom. He was careful not to jostle the baby boy as he walked down the stairs, and into the sitting room. He set Arthur down on the couch and made sure he was settled in before straightening out again. "Now then, give me one moment okay?"

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, already unhappy by the idea of being left alone like this.

"I am just going to get your bottle for you, and a bit of medicine to help you feel better okay? You will be okay." Arthur only pouted in return. Francis entered the kitchen, and made sure to work quickly. He filled a bottle with milk and then set it in a saucepan to warm up. As it did, he found the fever medicine and got it all ready. He hoped that Arthur would be willing to be a good boy and take his medicine. As much as he loved Arthur, he wasn't always the most perfect little angel. But that was okay. He loved him very much anyhow. Now, he just had to wait for the bottle to warm up. He leaned against the counter and stared up at the ceiling, just thinking. How did Arthur suddenly get so sick? Usually there were at least a few warning signs that it was going to happen the day before, like a change in appetite, or some irritability. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary yesterday. Had he not been paying close enough attention? Francis thought back to yesterday, trying to piece together what could have happened, or why he might not have noticed anything. But when he tried to, he realized something. He hadn't seen Arthur for a majority of the day. He had been out for a long time yesterday for work. Hm, so that might explain it. Had the man overworked himself? Poor Arthur...

The timer on the stove went off, and Francis retrieved the bottle. He entered the sitting room where Arthur was waiting for him. His eyes were shut once again, and he looked like he was ready to fall asleep. Francis sat down on the couch, and pulled Arthur closer. The man began to fuss as he was woken up, squirming unhappily. "I know, papa is sorry," he soothed gently. "Once you have your medicine, you will feel much better. Here, which one would you like first? The fever medicine, or your bottle?" Francis asked him. Arthur looked between the two options before looking into Francis's violet eyes.

"I want papa to pick," he requested. He didn't know whether it was the fever causing it, or if he had always been this way, but the look Arthur gave him was one of such helplessness and fatigue. That look, it made him want to protect this little boy for as long as he was allowed. He wanted to always hold him close, and chase away the bad thoughts and awful people. That's the way he felt when they were still very little he remembered. He wanted to protect the little boy with the big eyebrows and the straw colored hair from his brothers, and every other bad person in the world. And he still felt that way today. "Papa?" Francis snapped out of his thoughts and smiled down at him.

"Ah, forgive me little one. I was just thinking, that is all," Francis said softly. "Here, swallow this for me please," Francis requested, showing him the capful of medicine. It was for children, and Arthur would likely need something stronger. But in such a little state of mind, Arthur would not be willing to take a pill, or swallow anything much more bitter then this. As he held it to him, Arthur turned his head and looked up at him.

"Thinking about what?" he asked.

"Mm, just about how darling my little one is. That's all," Francis teased, making him blush.

"T-That's not true. I'm not cute," Arthur defended, his pink blush only brining more color to his face. Francis chuckled, rather amused by his reaction.

"No, of course you are not." This seemed to satisfy Arthur. So Francis gave just a tiny push. "You are very very cute~" Arthur looked up at him, his mouth agape. Then he pouted and turned his head away from him. "Aw, I am sorry. Please don't not make such a face. Will you forgive your silly papa?" He asked him. Arthur didn't answer for a second. But he looked up at Francis and sighed.

"Papa teases too much."

"I know. I am sorry. I will do my best not to tease so much anymore. Now, will you take your medicine for papa? Then you can have your bottle to get rid of it's taste okay?" Francis offered. Arthur nodded. Anything to make him feel better. Even if it meant taking the medicine he despised so much. He opened his mouth, and swallowed down the supposedly grape flavored stuff. He made a face as it went down his throat.

"Bitter..." he moaned.

"It is isn't it? Here. This will help, at least a bit," Francis said. He offered the nipple of the bottle and Arthur was quick to latch on and nurse. The milk helped to wash away the taste of the medicine and the warmth made the chills in his body go away. As Francis held the bottle, he began to stroke his hair gently. "Poor thing. I wish you would not push yourself so hard. It is only doing your body harm. I know you want to do better, and you want to be a good leader for your nation. But even nations need a break sometimes you know. Nothing will go wrong if you just take a day for yourself." Arthur did not answer. He only stared up at him, his eyes glistening a bit from his fever. "Well, I'm going to do my best to help you get better. And papa is not going to leave your side again. Do you hear me? Not until you're all better." Arthur moved his head a bit so that the nipple came out of his mouth, and he looked up at Francis.

"And after that?" He asked. Francis chuckled softly.

"Np, not even after that. I will stay here for you even after that." Arthur was thoughtful for a moment.

"But why?" He asked. "Why will you stay? Why do you always stay?" Arthur had trouble understanding such a thing. He was always left by the ones he cared about. The ones he thought cared about him. How could he know for sure that Francis would really stay?

"Isn't it obvious? It is because I love you silly. I love you to the stars and back. There has never been a single moment where I have doubted my love for you. That is why I stay."

Arthur chewed on his lip a bit. His insecurities were starting to poke out their ugly little heads. "Why? Why do you love me? I am not strong, and I am not-"

"Ssh," Francis shushed. "That's enough of that little one. I love you because you are you. I love all of your strengths and weaknesses. Your smile and your laugh. Those are treasures I could not ever live without. I want you to stay, just as much as I want to stay. Please don't ever doubt my feelings for you. Do you understand that?" Arthur gave him a weak little smile in return. Just his kind words made him feel a bit better. He wanted to be over this illness so he and Francis could go out and be together just as they always were. But right now, he just wanted to stay here, safe and warm in his papa's arms. He nuzzled into his chest and let out a content little sigh. "Aw. Does Arthur want the rest of his bottle?" he offered.

"Nu-uh," Arthur whispered back, shaking his head no. "Just papa." Francis nodded knowingly and set the bottle to the side. Then, he wrapped his arms around the little swaddle that was Arthur and began to rock him back and forth in his arms. Arthur could feel his papa's heartbeat, even and strong, just as it should be. The room was very quiet, save for Arthur's slightly ragged breathing. Francis kissed Arthur's sweaty brow, his stubble very gently scratching the ill boy's head. But Arthur didn't seem to mind. It was familiar and comforting.

"Papa..." Arthur moaned softly, his brow furrowing as his head began to throb once more. He panted into his chest, as he could feel the heat rising from his chest, to his throat, making it hurt. He was in pain, and he wanted papa to make him all better. He felt like crying, it all hurt so terribly. "It's hurts. Papa it hurts..." Arthur managed out with a sniff.

"I know it does. Just be still. You need to rest." Francis continued to rock his sick little darling back and forth in his arms, trying to sooth his aching body. As a caregiver, it was so hard when one could not sooth their little ones and make it all better. But he had to do his best. He had to make him better, however he could. Francis leaned down a bit, keeping his arms firmly around Arthur to keep him from slipping. And he began to whisper a soft tune to him. It was a tune from a children's book. One that both Francis and Arthur loved dearly. As it held true to how they felt about one another.

 _I'll love you forever  
I'll like you for always  
As long as I'm living  
My baby you'll be_

Arthur's little sniffles seemed to stop rather quickly when he heard the familiar and comforting tune. He bit his lip and nuzzled farther into Francis's chest to try and sooth his aching head. Francis repeated the tune to Arthur, a bit quieter, but with no less feeling in it. He wanted to get his point across, and sooth his little one however he could. He repeated it again and again. He would do it as many times as he had to if it would make his little one happy. He hated to see him cry. He kept going.

And soon, the sniffles stopped. And Arthur's breathing was even.

Francis sat up a bit straighter to look down at the little one in his arms. Arthur's eyes were closed. And he was asleep. His brow was relaxed, and he didn't seem to feel anymore pain. Peace. He was in peace. That's all he really wanted. Francis gently pressed another kiss to Arthur's brow, being careful not to wake him or make him cry. "Sleep tight _lapin._ When you wake, papa will be right here. Just as he promised. Forever and always."


End file.
